Supernatural Sisters
by Devin Kord
Summary: A Supernatural genderswap that will be updated on the second Monday of every month until the show ceases to air. There are supposed to be some breaks in the chapters, but I have yet to go through and seperate them. Sorry if it's confusing right now.
1. Pilot

"Deanna, say goodnight to your little sister," Mark said, waving his four-year-old daughter into the room. The little girl walked in and climbed up on the edge of her six-month-old sister's crib.

"Goodnight Sammy," she said, kissing the baby on the forehead and climbing down nimbly. Deanna turned around to see her mother standing in the doorway. "Mommy!"

The little girl ran into her mother's arms. "Hey, how's my big girl? And the baby's asleep?"

Mark nodded and walked over to his wife and daughter. "She's out like a light, Jane."

"Good, now come on Deanna, let's get you to bed."

Mark and Jane were awoken by the baby crying over the monitor. Jane went to roll out of bed but Mark beat her to it.

"I'll get it, sweetheart. You go back to sleep." Jane just nodded sleepily and rolled back over, settling back down to go to sleep. Just as she was about to drift back into sweet nothingness, she heard Mark scream. It was cut off quickly, but it pulled her out of sleep and forced her to be alert. She rolled out of bed and left the bedroom, practically running to the baby's nursery.

When she got in, there was someone standing next to Samantha's crib, the baby was crying, and Mark was nowhere to be found. That was when Jane looked up. Mark was pinned to the ceiling by some unseen force, and a wide stripe of blood stained his t-shirt across his torso. And flames engulfed him and licked out across the ceiling, beginning to consume the room.

Samantha was practically screaming at this point, and Jane ran to the crib, picking the baby up and leaving the room. She almost plowed over Deanna as the little girl ran from her room to see what the commotion was about. After a second of thought, she bent down and handed Deanna the baby.

"Get your little sister outside as fast as you can, and don't look back. Now, Deanna, go!" The little girl gripped her sister tight, turned and ran down the stairs and out of the house as quickly as she could. Jane watched her eldest daughter disappear down the stairs and then turned to run back into the room. The person who was standing next to Sam's crib was now sitting in the window.

Jane went to run for them, but they smiled and dropped out of the window. Before they disappeared, Jane could have sworn she'd seen their eyes glow yellow. Something was not right, and she knew there was no way to save Mark now. She had to leave, as much as she wanted to try to get her husband out.

As she ran out the front door, fire trucks and ambulances were gathering on the street in front of the house, and Deanna stood next to the family Impala, holding a still crying Samantha. Jane sat on the hood of the car, holding Samantha and running her hand over Deanna's hair.

Whatever that thing was that had killed Mark, she was going to get it. It was going to pay for what it had done. Time to sell the house and get Mark's old hunting gear. She'd never used it, but she'd figure it out soon enough. And Deanna and Sam were coming with her. They'd all get revenge on that thing. Revenge for their father.

"Sam, baby, where's your costume?" Jesse asked, walking out of the bathroom in full Jack Skellington makeup and costume.

"You know how I feel about Halloween, Jesse," Samantha answered from the table, looking up at her dressed up boyfriend.

"Come on, sweetheart, get in the spirit, it's fun!"

"Jesse, I'm serious." Jesse sighed and put his hands on Sam's shoulders, standing behind her.

"Alright, fine, but we're almost late. Let's get going."

"Here's to my Sammy girl and her amazing LSAT victory this week," Jesse said before downing a shot of whiskey.

"It wasn't that amazing," Sam said, coughing a bit from the whiskey she'd just drank.

"She's being humble, but she scored a freaking 174," Jesse said, pushing Sam's shoulder a bit.

"Is that good?" their friend Lara asked.

"Extremely."

"Well, you could go anywhere you want, my girl! Where you gonna go to law school?" Lara asked, her slight buzz from the whiskey showing.

"I have an interview here on Monday. If it goes well, I could get a full ride," Sam said, fixing the collar of her beat up denim jacket.

"How does it feel being the golden child of the family?" Lara asked, leaning on the table in front of Sam. Her dark skin gleamed in the dim light of the bar.

"They don't know anything about it. We're not exactly in touch, Lara," Sam said, throwing a bit of thread from her jacket at the girl.

"Well, neither is my family, but they'd know if I got a full ride. Now, more shots!" Lara pushed off the table and ran as fast as she could in her stilettos to the bar.

"No, no! Lara, no!" Sam yelled after her, but her friend paid no attention. Jesse smiled and pushed a lock of Sam's hair behind her ear, resting his hand on her neck.

"Baby, I'm proud of you. You're going to be amazing at that interview, they're going to love you, and you're gonna score that full ride." Sam looked up at her boyfriend with a loving smile.

"What would I do without you?" Jesse looked like he was thinking hard for a moment.

"Crash and burn," he said with a smirk, and bent down to kiss Sam.

Sam slept peacefully next to Jesse, her chest rising and falling slowly. A small crash in the kitchen caused her to jerk her eyes open. Jesse just rolled over in his sleep, but Sam sat up slowly, pushing the comforter off of her legs and standing up. Her feet hit the cold floor silently, and she moved through the room without making a sound and grabbed Jesse's baseball bat from the corner.

She turned on no lights, left the house in darkness. Jesse would probably think she was stupid for going out in the living room when there was someone in their house, but he didn't know who she was. What she had done as a child and teenager. He had no idea how she spent the 22 years she'd had on this planet.

She would be fine.

Upon entering the living room from the hallway, someone grabbed her wrist and twisted it back, causing the baseball bat to drop from her hands and clatter to the floor. Sam whirled around, bringing her elbow around to attempt to hit her attacker, but she was blocked by their hand, pushing her arm away. She went to punch them, but felt a hand wrap around her fist, then a knee to the stomach.

While she was doubled over, they grabbed her and pushed her to the ground, their forearm to her throat, straddling her and keeping her on her back. Sam looked up, still trying to get her breath back from when they had kneed her.

And saw her sister Deanna. Her blonde hair was loose, falling down around her face, which seemed to be made of hard lines. Her jaw was squared, her nose would have been straight had it not been broken so many times, and her cheekbones were prominent. Halfway opposite of Sam, with her rounded nose, curly black hair, and dimples.

"Deanna?" Sam asked, staring at her big sister incredulously. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You're out of practice, Sammy," Deanna said, smiling slightly. Her voice was gravelly, as it had been since she'd hit puberty. One thing she'd gotten from their father. Sam furrowed her brow and jerked her leg up, through Deanna's and around her sister's waist. She threw her weight to her left and rolled to straddle her sister. Deanna just laughed. "I take that back. Get off."

"What are you doing here Deanna?" Sam asked when Deanna pushed her off. She stood up in the darkness and stared at her sister, jaw slack.

"Well, I was hoping for a beer," Deanna asked, clapping Sam on the shoulder then brushing off her own leather jacket.

"Seriously, what the hell are you doing here Deanna?"

"Well, you and I need to talk." Sam sighed.

"There is such a thing as a phone."

"Yeah, but if I had called, tell me honestly here, would you have picked up?" Sam rolled her eyes at her big sister in the darkness.

Suddenly it wasn't so dark anymore. Sam and Deanna jerked their heads around to see Jesse in the hallway.

"Sammy?" he said sleepily, pushing his unruly blond hair out of his eyes.

"Oh. Deanna, this is my boyfriend, Jesse." Deanna smiled at Jesse, more suggestively than Sam would like.

"Wait, your sister Deanna?" Jesse smiled, sleep leaving his eyes quickly. Deanna looked him over, his tousled blonde hair, sleepy blue eyes and prominent cheekbones. And the fact that he was wearing a white t-shirt and boxers.

"Okay, I have got to tell you this," Deanna said, walking over to Jesse. "You are way out of my little sister's league."

"Um, just let me put some pants on…"

"No, no, I wouldn't dream of it," Deanna said with a flirtatious smile. "Really."

Jesse looked at Sam, his expression a little bit afraid.

"Anyway," Deanna said, walking back to Sam, "my sister and I have a little bit of family business to discuss. It was great meeting you though."

"No," Sam said suddenly. She went to stand next to Jesse and let him slip his hand around her waist, resting her hand on his chest. "Anything you want to say to me you can say in front of Jesse."

"Okay," Deanna said, pursing her lips. "Mom hasn't been home in a few days."

"What's new? She'll probably stumble in drunk in a couple of days, you go be a good little soldier and wait for her," Sam said condescendingly. Deanna sighed and went about rewording her statement.

"Mom's on a hunting trip. And she hasn't been home in a few days." Sam's eyes widened and she gripped Jesse's t-shirt, then let go and patted his chest.

"Jesse, excuse us real quick, we have to discuss something outside." Jesse nodded and left them alone.

Deanna led Sam out of the apartment and onto the stairs.

"Come one, Deanna, you can't just break in in the middle of the night like this! And you can't expect me to immediately hit the road with you!"

"Sammy, you don't understand, Mom's missing! We gotta find her!" Deanna led Sam down the stairs and the younger Winchester followed against her better judgment.

"Remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? She was missing then too. She's always missing, and she's always fine." Sam grabbed Deanna's shoulder and stopped her. The elder Winchester turned around, and when she spoke, her voice was worried.

"Not for this long. Now are you going to come with me or not?"

"Not," Sam said plainly.

"Why not?" Deanna couldn't seem to comprehend why her little sister wouldn't join her.

"Cause I swore I was done hunting. For good, Deanna."

"I know it wasn't always easy, but it wasn't that bad." Deanna turned back around and started walking, and Sam followed her.

"When I told Mom I was scared of the thing in my closet, she gave me a .45."

"Well, yeah. What did you expect her to do?" Deanna asked, turning back around and stopping next to the door that led outside.

"I was nine years old! Maybe tell me not to be afraid of the dark?"

"Are you nuts?! You know you should be afraid of the dark, you know what's out there!" Deanna looked at Sam in surprise.

"Yeah, I know what's out there. But still, the way we grew up after Dad died and Mom's insane obsession to find the thing that killed him. And we still haven't found the damn thing. So we just kill everything we can find." Sam was not in a good mood. It was the way of life they grew up with that made her sleep in clothes that she could get out of the house at a moment's notice in and still be normal looking.

"Yeah, and we save a hell of a lot of people doing it!" Deanna thought Sam was off her rocker. The two regarded each other for a moment before Sam scoffed.

"You think Dad would have wanted this for us?" Deanna looked around like she was considering what Sam had said. Instead of saying anything, she just pushed open the door and headed for the Impala. Sam followed, still talking. "The weapons training? Melting silver into bullets? We were raised like warriors."

"So what are you going to do? Just live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it, Samantha?" Deanna stopped next to the '67 Chevrolet Impala she called home most of the time.

"No. Not normal. Safe." Sam was adamant. Deanna studied her little sister.

"So that's why you ran away…" Deanna scoffed and shook her head.

"I was just going to college. It was Mom who told me if I was going to go to never come back." Deanna narrowed her eyes. "That's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well Mom's in trouble right now, if she's not dead already. I can feel it." Sam pushed her hair behind her ears and regarded Deanna coldly. "I can't do this on my own."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Yes, you can."

"Yeah…" Deanna screwed her lips up to the side. "Well, I don't wanna."

Sam looked at the ground and sighed, staying silent for a moment. "What was she hunting?"

Deanna attempted to hide the excitement, and had to stop herself from practically skipping to the car and popping the trunk. Sam wasn't surprised when she saw there was still an arsenal halfway concealed in the trunk. Deanna propped it open with a sawed-off shotgun and rifled through some things, talking as she went.

"Okay, now where the hell did I put that thing?" Deanna mostly spoke to herself.

"If Mom was working a job, why didn't you go with her?"

"I was working a job in New Orleans. Some voodoo thing."

"Mom let you work a case on your own?" Sam scoffed. Deanna looked up at Sam incredulously.

"I'm twenty-six, man." She looked back down and found the file she was looking for. "Ah, here it is. Mom was checking out a stretch of two-lane blacktop near Jericho, California. Little over a month ago, this guy disappeared." Deanna handed Sam a paper. "Found his car, but he'd vanished. MIA."

Sam looked over the paper, skimming the article and studying the picture of the guy. The headline read "Centennial Highway Disappearance."

"So maybe the guy was kidnapped, Deanna."

"Yeah, well, there was one in April, December '04, '03, '98, '92. There are ten of them over the past twenty years, Sammy." Deanna snatched the paper out of Sam's hands. "They're all men, all the same five mile stretch of road. The past few ones have happened in quicker succession. A lot more often. So, Mom decided to go dig around, and there was a job for me in Orleans. So we were split up. And she left about three weeks ago. You ever heard of her being gone that long?"

"You're right, that's a bit shady," Sam agreed.

"Yeah, and I never heard from her. That's bad enough, but I got this voicemail yesterday." Deanna pulled a cell phone out of the mess of weapons. She pressed a button, and their mother's voice came through, but it was broken up. All Sam really got was, "Be careful, Deanna. We're all in danger." There was too much EVP to hear the rest.

"You know there's EVP on that?"

"Not bad Sammy. It's kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Deanna smirked. "Anyway, I slowed it down and took out the hiss, basically just pulled the EVP out, and this is what I got."

"I can never go home." It was a woman's voice, and it sent chills up Sam's spine.

"Never go home…" Sam repeated. Deanna smiled and put the lid of the case down, though it didn't close due to the sheer number of items inside it, and slammed the trunk shut.

"It's been almost two years, Sam. I've never bothered you in that time. I never asked you for anything in that time." Sam looked back at the doorway and sighed. She looked back at her sister.

"Alright. I'll go. I'll help you find her, but you have to understand I have to be back first thing on Monday. Wait here, let me get some clothes packed up and say goodbye to Jesse." Deanna leaned against the trunk of the Impala and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket.

"What's first thing on Monday?" she asked, looking at Sam walking away. Sam stopped and turned around, sighing and putting her hands in the pocket of her hoody.

"An interview."

"Job interview? Skip it."

"A law school interview, Deanna. My whole future is riding on it."

"Law school?" Deanna raised an eyebrow.

"So do we have a deal, or not?"

Back inside, Sam packed up what few weapons she'd brought with her, in case anything that went bump in the night decided to attack. She turned to grab a few shirts out of her dresser and saw Jesse standing in the doorway.

"So, you're taking off." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah. Just some family drama, babe, we'll take care of it." Sam grabbed a few plain t-shirts and went back to the bed to shove them in her bag.

"Is this about your Mom? Is she all right?" Jesse asked, coming in to sit on the bed.

"Yeah, she and my uncle go hunting up at the cabin every year. Just deer hunting, probably got a bit more than tipsy." Sam zipped up the duffle bag and carried it to the doorway.

"What about the interview, Sammy?"

"I'll make the interview, Jesse. It's only for a couple of days." Jesse stood up and grabbed Sam's hand, pulling her back to him.

"Just stop for a second, baby. Slow down," Jesse said, smiling and brushing Sam's hair behind her ear. His expression was one of worry. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Jesse." He sighed and gave a slight smile, running his fingers down her jaw.

"It's just… you don't even talk to your family. Even to me. And now you're just going to take off to spend the weekend with them? And with your interview coming up on Monday, which is a little bit more than a huge deal." Sam smiled up at him and sighed.

"Listen, everything's gonna be fine and I'll be back in time. I promise, babe." She planted a kiss on his cheek, grabbed her duffle bag and left the room.

"At least tell me where you're headed?!" Jesse yelled after her, knowing she wouldn't answer.

Sam sat in the front seat of the Impala, door open and a box of tapes on her lap. She picked them up one at a time, checking what was on them and tossing them back in.

They had stopped at a gas station, and Deanna was inside, leaving Samantha to her own devices for a bit.

"Hey, you want breakfast?" Deanna shouted at her sister, coming out of the gas station holding a bunch of random foods.

"Naw, I'm good," Sam said after looking up at what Deanna had. She went back to looking at the tapes. "How'd you pay for that anyway? Still running credit card scams with Mom?"

"Well, hunting isn't exactly career choice of the year. And we just apply, not our fault they send us the card." Deanna stopped the gas pump and replaced the nozzle, then headed for the driver's side door.

"And what names did you use this time?"

"Hell if I know, I just use the card," Deanna said with a smirk. She slammed the door shut.

"Okay, you need to update your cassette tape collection."

"Why?" Deanna looked surprised.

"Well, firstly, they're freaking cassette tapes. And secondly, who the hell listens to Metallica, Motor Head and Black Sabbath anymore? You've got the greatest hits of mullet rock here." Deanna snatched the AC/DC tape out of Sam's hand and opened it up, popping the tape in the player in the dash.

"Okay, house rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts her cakehole." She tossed the case into the box and started the car. The music started soon after the engine. Sam slammed her door shut.

"Okay, seriously, it's Sam, or Samantha. Only Jesse has the right to call me Sammy." Deanna looked at Sam like she didn't understand anything.

"Sorry, can't here you over the _amazing music_," Deanna said, pulling out of the gas station. Sam just sighed and resigned herself to leaning against the door and letting the wind pull her hair away from her face.

"Okay, thanks. Yeah, I appreciate it." Sam snapped her phone shut. "Well, no one matching Mom's description at the hospital or morgue. So she's alive. Somewhere."

Deanna looked out her window to see a bridge with an abundance of police cars and personnel on it.

"Hey, check it." She nodded towards the bridge and pulled up near the police line, cutting the engine. She looked at the people gathered around and leaned over to the glove compartment, popping it open and taking out a small box. Sam looked over and saw a bunch of fake IDs inside. She looked over at Deanna incredulously.

"You're kidding right?" she asked when Deanna shut the box.

"Not in the slightest. Let's go." Deanna grabbed her beat-up brown leather jacket and the IDs and headed for the bridge. Sam followed her, heart pounding at the thought of being found out. She barely caught the ID her sister flung at her over her shoulder.

The cops were talking when they approached.

"Troy's dating your daughter, right?" the black one asked the man crouched on the other side of the car.

"Yeah," the white man seemed detached from what was going on.

"How's she holding up?"

"She's putting up missing posters downtown." Sam followed Deanna up to the car, and Deanna spoke first.

"You had a case just like this one about a month ago, right?" The black cop jerked his head up, looking at the two sisters.

"And who are you?" he asked.

" Federal Marshalls." Deanna flashed the fake ID. The man regarded them coldly.

"A bit young and uh… feminine for Marshalls." Deanna looked like she was going to rip the man's head off before Sam nudged her.

"Doesn't matter. You _did_ have another one like this about a month ago, didn't you?" Deanna asked again.

"Yeah," the man said after a moment. "About a mile up the road. And there were others before."

"And you knew the victim?" Sam asked. The man nodded.

"Town this small, everybody knows everybody."

"Any connection between the victims?" Deanna asked, walking around the car. "You know, besides the fact that they're all male."

"Not as far as we can tell."

"So, what's the theory here?" Sam asked, walking around the car to stand by her sister.

"We honestly don't know. Serial murders, kidnapping ring?" The man looked like he knew very little and was questioning anything and everything.

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work we'd expect out of you guys," Deanna said. She inhaled sharply when Sam stepping on her foot.

"Thank you for your time," Sam said, grabbing Deanna by the arm and pulling her away. "Gentlemen."

Sam let go of Deanna and walked off the bridge. Deanna gave the men a slight smile, then went running after her sister. When she reached her, she slapped the back of her head.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" Sam asked, glaring over at Deanna.

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?"

"Why do you have to talk to police like that?"

"Wait, seriously?" Deanna asked, stepping in front of her sister. Though she was older, she stood a few inches shorter than Sam. "They don't know what's going on here, Sam. We're all alone on this. If we want to find Mom, we have to get to the bottom of this ourselves, don't you understand that?"

Sam coughed and nodded slightly at the area behind Deanna. She furrowed her brow, but turned around to find another police officer with two FBI agents.

"Can I help you two?" the police officer asked.

"Naw, we were just leaving, officer," Deanna said with a wide smile. Under her breath she muttered, "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully" as the FBI agents passed.

"How much you wanna bet that's her?" Deanna asked Sam, gesturing slightly to a girl walking down the street putting up papers. The two walked over to her. "I'm guessing you're Amy?"

"Yeah, that's me," the black-haired girl answered, not paying much attention to who she was addressing.

"Troy told us about you, we're his aunts. I'm Deanna, this is Sammy."

"He never mentioned you guys," she said, putting up a paper and walking away, taking more out of her satchel.

"Yeah, well, that's Troy I guess. We're not around much, we live up in Modesto." At this point Sam took over, pushing Deanna over a bit and moving to stand in front of Amy.

"We're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around." A girl walked up to Amy and rested a hand on her arm.

"Hey, you all right?" Amy smiled and nodded.

"You mind if we ask you a few questions, Amy?" Sam asked.

They ended up in a diner, Amy's friend joining them, and Amy went about telling her story.

"I was on the phone with him, and he was driving home. He said he'd call back, and uh… he never did." She sniffed a little bit.

"He didn't say anything out of the ordinary, did he?" Sam asked, leaning across the table and trying to be as kind as possible.

"Nothing I can remember." Sam looked the two girls over, their piercings, their dark makeup and hair, their jewelry. One item caught her eye, the necklace Amy was wearing.

"I like that necklace," she said as nonchalantly as possible. Amy's hand went to it immediately and she smiled, looking down at it.

"Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff." Sam couldn't help but correct her.

"It means exactly the opposite of what you think. A pentagram is protection against evil. Quite powerful, actually. Well, if you believe in that kind of stuff." Deanna rolled her eyes.

"Okay, thanks Unsolved Mysteries." She leaned her forearms on the table. "Here's the deal girls. The way Troy disappeared. Something isn't right here. So, if you've heard _anything_…"

The two girls looked at each other, then down at the table.

"What is it?" Amy's friend was the first to speak.

"With all these guys going missing, people talk."

"What do they talk about?" the Winchester sisters asked in unison, Sam's voice in odd dissonance with Deanna's.

"Well, it's a local legend. It's about this girl who got murdered out on Centennial. It was like, decades ago. Supposedly, she's still out there. And she hitchhikes. Whoever picks her up… Well… they just… disappear. Forever."

The sisters headed for the nearest library in the hopes of finding a computer. They found a few open ones, sat down, and Deanna found the local newspaper's website to start searching. She typed in "Female Murder Hitchhiking" and pressed search.

No results.

She tried replacing hitchhiking with Centennial Highway, but got nothing again.

"Let me try," Sam said, reaching for the mouse. Deanna smacked her hand way.

"I got this." Sam, disbelieving as she was, pushed Deanna's chair away and took her spot in front of the computer. She rolled her chair back over, muttering, "You're such a control freak."

"Vengeful spirits come out of violent death, right?"

"Well, yeah," Deanna said, looking at her sister like she was stupid.

"Then maybe it isn't murder." Sam replaced the word murder with suicide and pressed search. This heralded one result. "1981, Constance Welch. She was 24, threw herself off Sylvania bridge and into the river."

"Well, does it say why she did it?" Sam stayed silent. "What?"

"An hour before they found her she called 911. She left her kids alone in the bathtub for a minute, when she came back, they were both dead. 'Our babies were gone and Constance couldn't bear it' said husband Joseph Welch."

There was a picture of the bridge, and Deanna gestured to it. "That bridge look familiar to you?" 

It was about midnight, and the pair had headed for the bridge they'd spoken to the police officers on. Deanna pulled the Impala on to the end of the bridge and cut the engine. They hopped out and walked to around the middle of the bridge.

"So this is where she took the swan dive," Deanna said, leaning against the edge of the bridge.

"And you think Mom was here?" Sam asked, looking down at the shallow river.

"Well, she's on the same case, and we're on her case, so yeah. I do." Deanna pushed away from the edge of the bridge and started walking.

"So now what?" Sam asked, following suit.

"We keep digging. You know these things take time. And this one's going to take a while." Sam sighed.

"Deanna, I told you, I have to get back by—"

"Monday," Deanna cut her off, turning around. "Right. The interview. You're serious about this aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer, marry that boy of yours?"

"Possibly," Sam said plainly.

"Does he know the truth about you? Does he know about the things you've done?"

"No," Sam said. She was getting agitated and approached her sister. "And he's never going to know."

"Healthy relationship right there," Deanna said, cringing slightly. "Pretend all you want Sammy. But sooner rather than later, you're going to have to face up to who you are. And it's not going to be pretty."

"And who is that, Deanna?" The elder Winchester started walking off the bridge again and her little sister followed.

"One of us." Sam felt a flash of anger and moved in front of her sister.

"I am not! I am nothing like you! I am not going to make this my life!"

"You have a responsibility, Samantha."

"To who? Mom? And her crusade? If it weren't for pictures, I'd have no idea what Dad looks like. What difference would there be? Even if we do find the thing that killed him, he's still dead. He's gone. No amount of monster killing is going to bring him back, Deanna."

This hit a nerve. Deanna brought her arms up, knocking Sam back into a post on the bridge and grabbing her jacket. She held her sister there, looking her in the eye with an expression that was no less than purely hate-filled.

"Don't…" Deanna's expression softened and her grip loosened. "Don't talk about him like that."

Deanna released Sam and walked off, biting her bottom lip and contemplating what Sam had said. When she looked up, there was a woman in a white dress standing on the edge of the bridge. Deanna stopped in her tracks.

"Sam." Samantha moved from where she still leaned against the post and to Deanna's side.

"What the…" The woman looked at them, her black hair a mess, bare feet resting on the cold metal. She gave them a sad smile, then leaned forward and fell from the bridge. Sam's first reaction was to run towards her, her boots making no noise on the smooth pavement.

When they got across the bridge to where the woman had fallen, they looked down at the river. There was no sign of her. It was like she was a ghost. Constance.

"Where'd she go?" Deanna asked.

"I don't know," Sam asked, her eyes searching the shallow water.

At that point there was a noise neither of them should have heard. Nor did they want to hear it. The Impala's engine turning over. The headlights flicked on, drawing their attention to it.

"Who's driving your car?" Sam asked. Deanna stood in the middle of the bridge and dug around in her pocket, then pulled out a skull keychain with a single key on it. The key to the Impala. The car started racing towards them, and their reaction was slightly delayed.

The two raced down the bridge, the Impala gaining on them. Samantha had an idea and went for the edge of the bridge, jumping over and grabbing the pipe that ran along the edge. Deanna didn't think about that and fell straight to the river below.

Sam climbed up to sit on the pipe with her legs dangling below. She looked in the water, but it was too dark to see if her sister was there or not.

"Deanna!" she yelled down. No answer. "Deanna!"

After a second, Deanna was pulling herself out of the river onto the bank. She glanced up at Sam, breathing heavily. "What?!" she yelled back.

"You all right?" Sam asked. She knew the answer to that question already. Deanna rolled over and her face was covered with mud, her clothes and hair caked with it. She gave Sam a thumbs up.

"I am awesome," she answered. Sam laughed and pulled herself back up on the bridge, shaking her head at her sister's misfortunes.

Deanna met her up there, popping the hood to the Impala and taking a look. Sam looked back down at the water and shuddered. Deanna slammed the hood shut.

"The car all right?"

"Yeah, it seems fine. Damn, that Constance, what a bitch!" Deanna yelled at the air, hoping the spirit would hear her. She sat back on the hood of the Impala, feeling mud squish in her boots. She grimaced and shook her head.

"So, where do we go from here, genius?" Sam asked, sitting next to Deanna, still smiling at her sister's muddy state.

"How the hell should I know?" Deanna flicked her hair around her shoulder, mud droplets flinging themselves onto Sam and the Impala. Sam sighed and looked around, then chuckled to herself.

"You smell like a toilet," she snickered. Deanna went on the offensive.

"You wanna take a plunge in the river, little miss? That was in no way my choice!"

"I'm just kidding, take a joke, Jesus."

"I am so not Jesus."

"One room please," Deanna said, tossing down the credit card she'd been using for the last month. The man at the front desk, picked it up and looked it over, then frowned.

"You guys having some kind of reunion?" he asked.

"What?" Deanna asked, looking back at Sam. She was still caked with mud and would have preferred to get into a room as soon as possible and get a hot shower and clean clothes, but she couldn't help but ask.

"Lady came in here a few weeks ago. Same last name. Bought out a room for a month." Sam raised an eyebrow.

They got the room number from the man and headed over to it. Deanna tried the door handle.

"Locked. I don't know what I expected." Sam pushed Deanna out of the way and took a small pack out of her pocket. She pulled out a couple of lock picking tools and set to work on the lock while Deanna stood with her back to the door, keeping a look out.

Sam heard the lock click and pushed the door open slowly. She stood up and walked in, looking around. The room was a wreck and things were pinned on the walls to the point where you couldn't even see what color the wall paper was. She looked behind her to see Deanna still standing outside, looking up and down the parking lot. With a sigh, she reached out and grabbed the mud-caked collar of her sister's jacket, pulling her inside.

"Hey, watch the jacket!" Deanna snapped, pulling away from her little sister and brushing herself off. Dirt clouded up around her. Sam cocked her head and raised her eyebrows at Deanna.

The two went around the room, looking at everything that might give them a clue as to where their mother went. Deanna found a half-eaten hamburger on the nightstand and sniffed it. She jerked back as the rotting smell assaulted her nose.

"She's been gone a couple days at the least," she told Sam, and went back to searching the room.

Sam had turned her attention to the pieces of paper pinned to the walls. All ten victims pictures were pinned to the wall, as well as their obituaries. As she kept scanning, she noticed the article they had seen on the newspaper's website about Constance Welch pinned underneath a paper saying "Woman in White." She smirked and pulled it down.

"She figured it out. Mom figured it out," Sam said, getting Deanna's attention.

"What?" Deanna asked, walking up behind Sam.

"Constance Welch. She's a Woman in White."

"Well, Mom would have made sure to scorch her bones then. So where was she buried?" Deanna looked around on the wall. Sam took down a picture and flicked it.

"I'd guess she'd go talk to Constance's husband, if he's still alive." Deanna clapped Sam on the shoulder.

"Well, lil sis, you get started on that, I'll be getting cleaned up."

"Hey, Deanna," Sam said, stopping her sister as she started walking away. "I… I'm sorry about what I said about Mom and Dad back there. I was just pissed. And I—"

Deanna held up a hand, stopping her sister midsentence. "No chick flick moments, please."

"Fine. Jerk."

"Bitch." Deanna disappeared into the bathroom.

"Hey, I'm gonna go get some food from the diner down the street. You want anything?" Deanna asked, coming out of the bathroom shrugging on her jacket. Sam shook her head, trying to concentrate on the voicemail Jesse had left her. "Suit yourself, I'll be back in a bit."

Sam sat down on the bed as Deanna left the room, still listening to Jesse's voice on her phone.

Deanna left the hotel room and looked around the parking lot, only to see a police car parked with two officers standing next to it, talking to the man who had checked them in. Deanna watched them for a moment, then the man who had been at the front desk pointed in her direction.

"Dammit," she muttered, pulling out her cell phone and dialing Sam's number. Sam picked up after one ring and started panicking a bit when she said hello. "Sammy, we got a five oh."

Sam felt a surge of worry and panic and stood up from the bed, heading for the curtained window. "What about you?"

"Don't worry about me, just get out." Deanna flipped her phone shut just in time for the police officers to reach her. "Hello, officers, anything I can help you with?"

"Where's your partner?" the black officer asked.

"Partner?" Deanna tried to look genuinely confused. The officer pointed at the hotel room, and the other man headed towards it. Inside, Sam watched, heart beating fast.

"Fake US Marshall, fake credit card," the man said. "You got anything that's real?"

Deanna thought for a second then smirked and said, "My dick."

Next thing she knew she was being thrown onto the hood of a cruiser and read her Miranda rights.

After a rather uncomfortable ride in the police cruiser, Deanna sat in an interrogation room, waiting for the sheriff to come in. When he did, he was carrying a box full of stuff. He sat it on the table with a loud bang.

"Well, you are in a boatload of trouble sweetheart. All ten victims' names and pictures up on the walls, along with all that Satanic mumbo jumbo. You are officially a suspect in this." Deanna furrowed her brow.

"Okay, when the first disappearance happened, it was '83, right? I was, what, three years old?"

"We know you're not alone in this. We know you have a couple of helpers, one of them being an older woman. Maybe she started all this. What have you even been doing with these men, Deanna?" The Winchester girl's head shot up. The sheriff laughed. "Thought that was your name."

He took something out of the box and tossed it on the table where it landed heavily in front of Deanna. It was a large, brown leather-bound journal. Bits of paper stuck out everywhere, along with a few paperclips. It was held closed by a large strap, which the sheriff flipped open.

Their mom's journal.

"I read through this," the sheriff said, flipping through the pages. "Well, what I could make out, seeing as it's nine kinds of crazy." He got to the last page, a plain piece of notebook paper that had "Deanna 35-111" written and circled. "This mean anything to you?"

Sam got up out of the car, slamming the door. The junkyard reminded her of Aunt Bobbie's place. She spotted a man next to the building, tinkering with something, and figured he was who she was looking for.

"Joseph Welch?" Sam asked, approaching him. The man turned around and squinted at Sam in the afternoon light.

"Yeah, that's me, what of it?" he asked.

"My name's Sam, I just wanted to ask you a few questions about your wife, Constance."

"There was a lady here asking about her the other day," Joseph said. "Said she was a reporter."

"That's right, we're working on a story together." Joseph looked at Sam like she was insane.

"I don't know what the hell kind of story you two are working on. She asked me where Constance was buried."

"Yeah, where was that again? Just, fact checking." Sam took a pad of paper and a worn down pencil out of her pocket.

"At our old house."

"You don't live there anymore?" Sam asked, squinting a bit.

"No," Joseph said plainly. "I couldn't bear to live where our babies died. I moved out a few days after Constance uh… well, you know."

"Okay, thank you." Sam nodded and headed back for the Impala. After opening the door, she stood there and seemed like she was thinking about something. "Mr. Welch?"

The man turned around again, looking back at her.

"Have you ever heard of something called a woman in white?"

"No…" he said, silently prompting Sam to continue.

"It's a spirit. Of a woman whose husband was unfaithful. In a spell of insanity, the woman kills her children. Then, realizing what she's done, she kills herself. Then her spirit becomes a woman in white, haunting the stretch of road near her house or the place she died, killing any unfaithful men who come by. She poses as a hitchhiker and they pick her up. And then they disappear, never to be seen again. Only their cars are found."

"Are you… are you saying that I cheated on Constance, because I never—"

"Mr. Welch. This never would have happened to her spirit if you didn't." Joseph had tears in his eyes and he was breathing heavily.

"Okay, so I made some mistakes! But Constance never, never would have killed our children! Now get out of my sight." He walked away, clenching his jaw and shaking his head. Sam watched him go, then sighed and got in the car.

"I'm telling you, it's my high school locker combo," Deanna said, looking at the numbers under her name one more time and leaning back. The door opened and a police officer poked his head in.

"Sheriff, there's been a 911. Shots fired." The sheriff sighed and waved the officer off.

"You have to go to the bathroom?" he asked Deanna.

"No," she said as if it were obvious.

"Good." The sheriff stood up and put a handcuff on one of her wrists, then through a loop of metal attached to the table in the interrogation room. Deanna pulled at it and sighed in defeat. The door slammed shut as the sheriff left.

Deanna looked around the room, then down at her mother's journal. A paperclip stuck out from the bottom and Deanna pulled it out with her cuffed hand. She smirked and started bending it to unlock the metal bracelet around her wrist. After a second of digging around in the tiny lock, it snapped off suddenly. In a hurry, Deanna grabbed her mom's journal and went for the door.

There were still police officers milling about the station. Deanna pinned herself against the wall next to the door, waiting for the sounds outside to stop. When they finally did, signifying the depart of whatever officers were there, she found her way to the roof and down a service ladder, jumping into the dimly lit alley behind the station.

Sam was headed down Centennial Highway towards Constance's old house when her phone rang on the seat next to her. She picked it up and checked the caller ID. Payphone. Deanna.

"Hullo?"

"Fake 911 call, that's pretty illegal Sammy," Deanna's voice came crackling through the phone.

"I know, but it got you out, didn't it?"

"Yeah, whatever. Mom's gone."

"What?"

"Yeah, she left her journal."

"She never goes anywhere without that thing."

"I know, but she did this time. She left in a hurry. And she left where she was going."

"Coordinates?"

"Yup, same old ex-Marine crap she picked up from Dad."

"I found out where Constance is buried. Her old house, the one she killed her kids in. I'm headed there now."

"Alright, I'll meet you there." Deanna hung up. Sam sighed and snapped the phone shut. She looked up just in time to see a woman standing in the middle of the road. She slammed on the brakes a moment too late, but it seemed as though the woman was just vapor. Looking back, no one was in the road. Sam turned back and looked in the rearview mirror, which was now filled by a woman sitting in the back seat. Constance Welch.

"Take me home," the spirit of Constance ordered, her voice soft.

"Um, no? Why the hell are you in here anyway?" Sam asked, turning around.

"Take. Me. Home." The ghost was insistent.

"I am not taking you home." Sam sighed, looking at Constance like she was a child she no longer wanted to deal with.

"I can never go home." Sam frowned.

"You're afraid to go home… why?"

What Sam didn't expect to happen next was the doors to lock. She went for the peg to pull it up and unlock the door, but it refused to budge. Sam then lunged across the seat for the passenger side door, but that one locked as well. The car shifted to drive and the gas pedal was pressed to the floor. The Impala went down Centennial Highway of its own accord.

As nonchalant as Sam had acted before, she was in a panic now. She kept trying the door, hoping it had, by some miracle, unlocked. Her heart beat like it wanted to escape from her chest, and her breathing became labored. In her panic, she didn't notice the car coming to a stop in front of a run down two story house. The windows were knocked out and the door hung loose on its hinges.

"Take me home," Constance ordered again. The spirit was suddenly in Sam's lap, pushing her back on the seat. "Hold me. I'm so… cold."

"You can't kill me. For one, I'm definitely female, and for two, I have never been unfaithful to Jesse," Sam said, looking up at the spirit who still pressed her against the seat.

"You will be," Constance whispered, running her hand down Sam's side, leaving goose bumps in her wake.

"You're freaking crazy, bitch," Sam said, still confused. As Constance pressed herself closer, she reached for the key, still sitting in the ignition. Sam managed to pull it out and grab the keychain.

Constance sat up abruptly, then disappeared into nothing. Sam breathed a sigh of relief, but a pain burning pain hit her chest after a second. She pulled down the zipper of her jacket and pulled it open. Five round holes appeared to burn through her t-shirt and into her skin. Constance appeared on top of her again, her fingertips pressed to Sam's chest. She flickered in and out for a moment, her face now halfway exposed skull that scared Sam more than many of the things she'd seen before in this job.

Through her cries of pain, Sam heard a gunshot in her direction. The window shattered and Constance flickered for a second, and four more gunshots came their direction. She disappeared, allowing Sam to breathe and the pain to begin to fade.

Then Constance rematerialized and the pain returned tenfold. A few more gunshots and Constance disappeared again. Deanna walked towards the Impala, .45 in hand. She dropped the clip out of it, slid a few more iron rounds into it, and replaced it in the grip of the pistol.

Deanna replaced the gun in the waistband of her jeans and covered it with her jacket.

Samantha sat up quickly, put the Impala in drive, stomped on the gas, saying, "I'm taking you home."

Deanna watched in horror as Sam drove the Impala straight into the house. "Sam!" she yelled, heading for the house.

"Sammy?"

"Here," Sam's response came from the Impala. Deanna made her way to the passenger side door and ripped it open.

"Can you move?"

"Yeah, help me out of here." Deanna put out a hand and Sam took it, using it to pull herself out of the Impala. As she got out, she could see Constance picking up a picture frame from the floor that was now strewn with bits of wood and other things.

They looked at her, fear evident. She glared at them, dropped the picture frame and some kind of cabinet flew over to pin them against the Impala. Both of the Winchesters attempted to push it away, but were incapable. It was held by some invisible supernatural force stronger than the two combined.

They stopped struggling when the lights started flickering. Sam and Deanna looked around, trying to find out exactly what was going on. Constance turned around and Sam and Deanna looked up to see a rush of water coming down the old wooden stairs, and the silhouettes of two little kids at the top. A girl and a boy. Constance's children. The children she killed. Constance's face of pure hatred changed to one of apology. She moved over to stand in front of the staircase, her image flickering every few steps.

"You've come home to us, Mommy," they said in unison. Their voices made Sam and Deanna's spines crawl.

She looked up at the children on the stairs, looking like she was about to cry. Suddenly the two kids were down the stairs, clinging to Constance's dress. A shriek pierced the air, and Constance and the children seemed to emit a blue light then all three of them melted in the floor, the shriek stopping suddenly.

Deanna shoved the cabinet or whatever it was away, and it fell backwards with a crash. They headed for where the three ghosts had disappeared into the floor. There was a puddle of water on the rug, and water dripped down from the ceiling.

"So this is where she drowned her kids," Deanna said, looking down at it.

"That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them."

"Ya found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy." Deanna smacked Sam where Constance had burned holes through her shirt and she gave a pained laugh.

"Wish I could say the same for you. What the hell were you thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak."

"Saved your ass didn't it?" Deanna walked over to the Impala, checking it. "I'll tell you another thing, if you screwed up my car, I'll kill you," Deanna threatened her little sister. Sam just rolled her eyes and got in the passenger side, waiting for Deanna to get in.

"Deanna?" Sam said after about a half hour on the road. Deanna turned down the Metallica tape that was playing and glanced at her sister.

"What is it?"

"Why did Constance go after me? I mean, women in white only go after men, don't they? Why would she go after me?"

"Maybe she had bisexual tendencies," Deanna said with a sarcastic smile on her lips. Sam glared at her. "Okay, okay, I know, not helping. I really don't know Sam. Spirits act odd sometimes, I wouldn't bother reading into it too much."

"Yeah, I guess." Sam didn't seem convinced. She shook her head as if to dispel the thought. "Anyway, you said Mom left some coordinates for you in the journal?"

"Yeah, here," Deanna reached into the backseat and grabbed the journal out of her jacket and tossed it to Sam. Sam flipped to the last page and looked at the coordinates, then pulled a flashlight and a map out of the glove compartment. Deanna smirked. "Remembering where everything is, eh?"

"Whatever." Deanna snorted slightly and went back to driving, leaving Sam to her devices.

"I found it," Sam said about fifteen minutes later, through AC/DC's Highway to Hell. "It's Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

"How far?" Deanna asked.

"About… six hundred miles."

"If we shag ass we can make it by morning."

"Dean…"

"You're not coming." It wasn't a question.

"The interview's in like ten hours, Deanna. I can't miss it. And you promised me you'd have me back."

"I know, I know. All right, I'll take you home."

Dean pulled up on the street in front of the apartment complex and put the Impala in park. Sam got out, her bag in hand, and slammed the door shut behind her. She looked back in through the open window and gave her sister a sad smile.

"You'll call me if you find her?" Deanna pursed her lips and nodded. "All right. Maybe I can meet up with you later."

"Yeah. Take care of yourself, Sammy."

"Sure thing, Deanna." She smiled and walked away. Once up the stairs and through the door, Sam noticed the cookies on the counter, with a note that said "Love you baby, I missed you. (yeah, they're store-bought, what can a guy do)."

With a small laugh, Sam grabbed one of the cookies and headed for the bedroom. She heard water in the shower and smiled, taking a bite of her cookie and throwing her duffle bag in the corner. She laid back on the bed, ready to sleep for as long as she could.

Something dripped on her forehead and she jerked, then felt another drop. Sam opened her eyes to see Jesse up on the ceiling, his mouth agape and a stripe of blood across his torso. She brought her arms down, pushing herself back on the bed, shaking.

"Jesse!" she screamed, looking up at him helplessly. Fire went from Jesse's sides, engulfing the ceiling and spreading throughout the room. Sam had no idea how Deanna got there, but she was suddenly by her side, pulling her from the bed.

Deanna got Sam outside and the younger woman collapsed in the middle of the street.

"No!" Sam screamed. She beat her palms on the rough pavement, scraping them. Tears streamed from her eyes and she itched to run in and try to save him, though she knew it was too late. Deanna stood next to her, on the phone with 911.

Sam pulled her hands across the ground, then brought them up, looking at the blood and scraped back skin. She screamed in pain, in anger, in frustration. Deanna looked down at her sister, then grabbed her arm and pulled her to the Impala, seeing fire trucks down the street. She popped the trunk and sat Sam down in it, pulling out hydrogen peroxide and gauze.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Deanna asked, pulling Sam's hand over the pavement so it didn't get on either of them and pouring the peroxide over it. Sam hissed in pain and watched it bubble up on her exposed flesh.

"Frustration," she said weakly. "Anger. Pain. Shall I continue?"

"Nope, that's enough." Deanna grabbed her sister's other hand and did the same thing. Sam clenched her teeth and resisted closing her hand. Deanna wrapped gauze around both Sam's hands and taped it down then let her sister get up.

Fire fighters had gone to work on the blaze, and Sam watched, biting her lip to fight back another scream. To distract herself, she picked up a sawed-off shotgun and check the barrels. She finally gave up and looked at Deanna hopefully. She nodded, and Sam turned around, tossing the shotgun in the trunk and slamming it shut.

"We have work to do."


	2. Wendigo

_Sam walked through the cemetery in Palo Alto, California, carrying a bunch of random flowers she'd picked out. Jesse's grave was brand new, pink granite that had his name etched in it. _

_ 'Jesse Lee Moore.' Sam had always thought his first and middle names sounded odd when said together. She looked down at the grave with the tiny oval picture of him above the name, fighting back tears._

_ "I know you always said roses were lame," she said, trying to smile. "So, I uh—" She cut off, biting her lip and looking up. There was no one else in the cemetery, and the tears Sam had been fighting to hold back let loose, dampening her cheeks._

_ She breathed in slowly and kneeled down next to the grave._

_ "I should have been there. I should have done something. I should have told who the truth about who I am." She gave a sad smile and went to place the flowers in front of the gravestone, and a hand shot up to grab her wrist._

Sam awoke with a jerk, her head coming up off the door of the Impala. Deanna was blasting music again. She looked over at her little sister and watched her blink the sleep out of her eyes.

The dream had been so real. So vivid. Sam had to make sure she was actually in the Impala with her sister, driving towards Black Water Ridge, Colorado.

"You okay?" Deanna asked, eyes back on the road.

"Yeah," said Sam while she resituated herself in the seat.

"Another nightmare?" Sam didn't answer, just blinked hard again so she was sure she was awake. "You wanna drive for a little bit?"

Sam scoffed and looked at Deanna as if she couldn't possibly be serious. When Deanna said no more, Sam decided to point something out.

"You have not asked me that once in your entire life, Deanna."

"Fine, I was just wondering if you wanted to. Never mind."

"Look, I know you're worried about me. And thank you for that, but I'm perfectly okay."

Deanna gave a noncommittal grunt. Sam shook her head slightly and pulled out a map with a red X on it and above it the coordinates their mother had left.

"So, where are we?"

"Just outside of Grand Junction." Sam stared down at the map and pulled her thick hair over her shoulder to attempt to pull out some of the knots that had been created by her tossing around as she slept.

"I still think we shouldn't have left Stanford yet," she mumbled.

"Sam, we dug around there for a week. We found jack squat." Sam kept pulling at her hair. "If you want to find the thing that killed Jesse…"

"…we have to find Mom first. Yeah, I know Deanna."

"Mom's disappearance and this thing showing it's ugly mug after, what? 20 years? That's no coincidence, Sammy. Mom will have answers for us. She'll know what to do."

"It's kind of weird."

"What is?" Deanna glanced at the map in Sam's lap.

"Black Water Ridge. There's nothing there. I mean, it's just woods. No town or anything." Sam looked up for the first time in the last few minutes since she woke up. "Why's Mom sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

Sam and Deanna walked around the ranger station in Lost Creek, looking at anything and everything. Sam stood over a 3-D model of the surrounding area.

"Well, Black Water Ridge is a pretty remote area. It's cut off by these canyons. Rough terrain, dense forest. Randomly placed silver and gold mines all over."

"Check out the size of this freakin' bear," said Deanna, standing next to the wall. She looked at the picture like it slightly disgusted her. Sam joined her. The bear was definitely huge, dwarfing the man that crouched beside it.

"Yup. And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area. No nature hike, you can be sure of that."

"You ladies aren't planning to go out by Black Water Ridge, are ya?" An older man walked in, carrying a cup of coffee and heading for the desk in the room.

"Oh, no," Sam answered. "We're environmental studies majors from UC Boulder. We're just, working on a paper."

"Recycle man!" Deanna gave a quick grin.

"Bull," the man said shortly. Deanna and Sam looked at each other, worried they had been found out. "You're friends with that Hank kid aren't you?"

Deanna thought about it for a second before saying, "Yes. Yes, we are. Ranger… Wilkinson."

"Well, I will tell you what I told him. His brother filled out a back country permit, saying that he wouldn't be back from Black Water until the twenty-fourth. Not exactly a missing person." Deanna mouthed 'no' and shook her head. "Tell him to quit his worrying. I'm sure his brother's just fine."

"We will." The man started to leave. "He's uh… quite the pistol, isn't he?"

"That's putting it mildly."

"You know, it might help if he could actually see when his brother's due back, so, could I possibly get a copy of the permit?" Deanna asked.

"Success," Deanna said, walking out of the ranger station folding the copy of the permit.

"You cruising for a hookup or something?" Sam asked, glaring at her sister.

"What?" Deanna asked, stopping next to the Impala.

"The coordinates point to Black Water Ridge. What the hell are we waiting for? Let's just go find Mom. I mean, why even talk to this guy?"

"Maybe we should possibly know what we're getting into here? Before we actually walk into it?" Deanna chewed on her bottom lip, looking over the hood at Sam questioningly.

"What?" Sam demanded.

"I dunno, it's just… when are you all 'Shoot first, ask questions later?'"

Sam's face went blank, her jaw clenching and her dark eyes hardening. "Since now."

Deanna rapped her knuckles on the screen door and waited. After a few moments, a young man around twenty-eight opened the door. His brown hair was curly and slightly unkempt, and his t-shirt had the sleeves cut off and the sides cut open. His blue eyes were questioning from the moment he opened the door.

"Hi, you must be Hank Collins," Deanna said, smiling up at him. He stood about six inches taller than her, only a little taller than Sam. He nodded. "We're rangers, with the park service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. Wanted to ask you some questions about your brother Tommy."

"Let me see some ID," Hank said. Deanna took a park ranger ID out of her pocket and held it up to the mesh of the door. Hank looked it over and nodded, opening the door for them. He looked behind them at the Impala. "Yours?"

"Yeah," Deanna said, slightly confused. Hank smiled down at her.

"Nice car." Hank walked away into the house, and the sisters followed him. Before they got through the door, Deanna looked back at Sam, mouthing, "Oh my God." Sam just rolled her eyes.

Another, younger man sat at the kitchen table, which was set for dinner. Hank disappeared into the kitchen and came back out with a bowl of something.

"So, if your brother's not due back for another month, what makes you think there's something wrong?" Sam asked.

"Checks in every day by cell. Emails pictures, these stupid little videos. We haven't heard anything in almost three days now."

"Maybe he can't get reception," Sam offered. Hank shook his head.

"He's got a satellite phone, too." He disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Maybe he just forgot to check in? Having a bit too much fun?" Deanna tried.

"He wouldn't do that!" the boy at the table snapped. Hank reemerged from the kitchen, putting another bowl on the table.

"Our parents are gone. It's just my brothers and me. We have to keep close tabs on each other, and we do." Sam pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes for a second.

"Can I see the pictures he sent you?" she asked.

"Yeah," Hank said. He left his little brother to eat and walked over to the laptop set up on the other end of the table. He pulled up the pictures and clicked through them. "That's Tommy. And this is the last video he sent us."

"Hey, Hank. Day six. Still up at Black Water Ridge. We're doing fine. I'll talk to you guys tomorrow."

"We'll find your brother," Deanna said. "We're headed out for Black Water Ridge first thing tomorrow."

"Maybe I'll see you there," Hank said. He went to stand behind his little brother. "I can't just sit around here anymore. I have to do something."

"What something?" Sam asked, looking up from the laptop for a moment.

"I hired a guide. We're headed out in the morning. I'm going to find Tommy myself."

"I think I know how you feel," Deanna said, looking up at Hank.

"Would you mind forwarding these to me?" Sam asked, interrupting Deanna's thought process.

"No problem," Hank said with a small smile.

Everything in the bar seemed to be moving. Waitresses dropping off food and beers, men in the corner playing pool. Nothing seemed to sit still, even the air was halfway electrified. Sam and Deanna sat in a corner booth, looking at what they had gathered on the area they were headed to.

"Black Water Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic," Sam said, flipping open their mom's journal. "Not a whole lot happens out there, but this past April, two hikers have gone missing. Never found."

"And before that?" Deanna asked with the knowledge that there was more than just two hikers going missing.

"1982, 8 people went missing. All in the same year. Authorities said Grizzly attack." Sam handed Deanna a newspaper clipping reading "Grizzly Bear Attacks." "Before that in 1959, and in 1936. Just like clockwork, every 23 years."

Deanna raised an eyebrow at the newspaper and put it down as if it were something dirty she no longer wanted anything to do with. Sam pulled out her laptop and opened it, Tommy's video already on screen.

"Alright, look at this. I downloaded the video to the laptop, and check this out." Sam stopped the video and clicked through frame by frame. A dark shape moved through the background, outside the tent Tommy sat in.

"Play it again." Deanna leaned forward to get a better look. Sam went through the process again, and again there was the dark shape.

"That is three frames, Deanna. Whatever that is, it is moving freaky fast. That is a _fraction_ of a second." Deanna smacked Sam's bicep with a chuckle.

"I told you something was going on!" She leaned back and reveled in her small victory.

"Well, I have one more thing for you." Deanna sighed and leaned forward again. "So, the attacks in '59? Well, one camper survived. He was just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive."

"Is there a name?" was all Deanna asked.

The man led them through the apartment, hobbling on stiff legs. Sam cringed with every step the man took, and his voice was gravelly and hard to understand at times. An interesting interview already.

"I have no idea why the rangers are asking me about this. I was just a kid. My parents got mauled by a—"

"—grizzly?" Sam asked. "That's what attacked them?"

The man stopped in his tracks and pulled the cigarette from his lips. He puffed out the smoke and turned back to them with a nod.

"The others who went missing that year? Those bear attacks, too?" Deanna didn't seem convinced by the man's answer. "And the people who went missing this year? Same thing?" The man returned the cigarette to his lips and didn't answer. "Listen, if we knew what was going on, there's a possibility we could stop it."

"I doubt that," the man said, sitting down in the only chair that wasn't covered in clothes or other items. "I don't see what difference it would make anyway. You wouldn't believe me. It's not like anyone else has."

"Mr. Shaw," Sam said, sitting down on the edge of the bed that took up most of the room. "We're not everyone else. What did you see?"

"Nothing." Sam clenched her jaw, surprised by the answer. "It moved too fast to see. And it hid too well. I heard it, though. It had a roar unlike… well, unlike any animal or man I've ever heard."

"It came at night?" He nodded. "It got inside your tent?"

"It got inside our _cabin_. I was sleeping in front of the fire place. The thing didn't… smash a window or break the door down. It unlocked it." Deanna looked up at the ceiling going through her memory of monsters that could unlock doors. "You ever heard of a bear that could do that? I didn't even know it was there until I heard my parents screaming."

"It killed them?" Sam asked, her voice soft and understanding.

"It dragged them off into the night." Deanna looked at Sam, shaking her head. Now she was completely unsure of what they were dealing with. It was like nothing they'd ever faced, even with their mother. "Why it left me alive… Well, I've been asking myself that ever since."

The room was silent for a moment, then the man snuffed out his cigarette and shifted himself to the front of the chair. "It did leave me this though." He pulled his shirt to the side, revealing four long, bumped up scars on his neck and shoulder. Claw marks. Sam jerked back in surprise. "There is something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon."

"Demons and spirits don't have to unlock doors, they just go through the walls if they want in," Deanna said as they walked down the hallway outside the man's apartment.

"Which means it's something corporeal," Sam said. Deanna stopped and stared up at her little sister.

"Corporeal? Really? Thank you, professor." Deanna rolled her eyes and kept walking.

"Shut up," Sam retorted. "So what do you think it is, genius?"

"Well, the claws… the speed that it moves… could be a skinwalker? Maybe black dog? Whatever we're talking about here, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal." Deanna smirked as Sam leaned her head back and sighed. "So, we can kill it."

The street was dark for the most part, the streetlight at the end providing the only light. The ground was wet with rain, and the Impala gleamed in the dim light. Deanna kept glancing around as she walked towards the trunk, making sure no one was around to see the arsenal they kept hidden there. The trunk popped open with a familiar click of the key in the lock and a slight squeak of the hinges.

Deanna looked behind her one more time before propping open the box inside with a sawed off shotgun. A dream catcher dangled from the lid, and weapons lined the inside. The trunk cast a faint light over the guns and knives. Deanna pushed her hair back and tossed down the duffle bag she'd been carrying.

"We can't let Hank go out there." Sam appeared from the other side of the Impala, watching Deanna load up the duffle bag.

"So what do you wanna tell him, not to go into the woods because of a big scary monster?" Deanna didn't look up at Sam. The younger Winchester sighed and began pulling her unruly hair back into a ponytail.

"Yeah," she said plainly. Deanna stopped for a moment.

"Listen, Sammy. His brother is out there somewhere. He's not just going to sit this out. We go with him, we protect him, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend." Deanna zipped up the duffle bag.

"He's a man, he can take care of himself!"

"He doesn't know what he's up against, Sam," Deanna looked over at her sister, questioning the statement.

"So finding Mom's not enough?" Something in Sam snapped and she slammed the box of weapons shut, then the trunk, eliminating the faint light. "Now we gotta baby sit, too?" Deanna just stared at Sam. "What?"

"Nothin'," Deanna said nonchalantly. She threw the bag at Sam, who caught it and stared at Deanna with nothing short of contempt on her face. Deanna walked away, leaving Sam to stare at her and consider getting in the car.

"I don't think Ben should come," the guide said, checking the action on his rifle. Hank stood with his brother, dressed in a pair of long cargo shorts and a t-shirt covered by a thick flannel shirt. He turned around to face the guide.

"Roy…" he started to say. The guide, Roy, didn't let him finish.

"Listen, you're paying me good money to keep everybody safe. I think Ben is safer here than out there." Hank's reply was interrupted by the Impala driving up the dirt road. He finished strapping on his day pack and stood with his hands on his hips, staring at the car coming towards them. With the car turned off and sitting a few feet in front of where Hank stood, Sam and Deanna got out.

Both were dressed in jeans and plain t-shirts, the collar of Deanna's cut open a bit. The sisters had collared shirts on over their t-shirts, and both wore canvas jackets. They weren't exactly dressed as Hank figured rangers should have been.

"Got room for two more?" Deanna asked, slamming the door of the Impala shut. Sam head for the back seat, pulling out the duffle bags they'd packed last night.

"Wait, you wanna come?" Hank asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Who are they?" Roy asked, looking the Winchester sisters over.

"Apparently, they're all the park service could muster up for search and rescue," Hank answered.

"You're rangers?" Roy asked, seeming unconvinced.

"That's right," Deanna answered, quite proud of herself. Sam walked straight past her to the trail entrance.

"And you're going out in biker boots and jeans?" Hank asked, looking Deanna up and down. Deanna looked down at what she was wearing and then at what Hank was wearing and cringed a bit.

"Hon, I don't do shorts," she answered and headed to join her sister.

"Do you think this is funny?" Roy asked, following them with his gaze. "It's dangerous back country out there, his brother might be hurt."

Sam and Deanna both regarded him coldly and exchanged glances.

"Believe me, I know how dangerous it can get," Deanna replied. "We just want to help them find their brother, that's all."

Ben glared at the two, then turned back to his brother. Hank just watched Deanna walk away and turned her gaze to Roy. The guide ran a hand through his short blonde hair and sighed.

The group of five, led by Roy, picked their way through the forest, over dead logs and tangled underbrush. Roy carried a rifle, and all but the Winchesters had day packs. The sisters merely carried their duffle bags and followed along.

"So, Roy, I see you do a little hunting," Deanna said in an attempt to start conversation.

"Yeah," Roy said flatly. "More than a little."

"What kinda furry critters do you hunt?"

"Mostly bucks, sometimes bear," Roy asked, stopping and looking down at Deanna.

"Well, this might be a bit of an odd question, but Bambi or Yogi ever uh… hunt you back?" Deanna walked a bit ahead of Roy and looked around at the woods surrounding them. Roy suddenly grabbed the collar of her jacket and pulled her backwards a couple of steps. "Whoa there, skipper. At least buy me a drink first."

Deanna smirked up at Roy. Having none of hit, Roy bent down and picked up a fallen branch. He stabbed the end of it down into the ground where Deanna was about to walk. A bear trap clamped down on the end of the branch and snapped the end of it off. Roy tossed the broken branch away.

"Watch where you're going, _ranger_," Roy sneered and kept walking. Deanna pursed her lips and thought about what had just occurred. The jackass had saved her life. But he had no idea what was out here. She'd be saving his in no time more than likely. Playing dumb, she twirled around a bit.

"It's a… a bear trap," she said, acting nervous. With a snort, she turned back around and kept following Roy. The other three followed close behind.

After a minute or so, Hank grabbed Deanna's arm and pulled her around to face him.

"Is everyone just going to grab me today?" she said, getting rather annoyed.

"Listen, you two didn't pack any provisions. You're carrying duffle bags." Ben walked straight on past to catch up with Roy, and Sam stopped for a second. "You're not rangers, so who the hell are you?"

Deanna looked beside Hank to Sam, who nodded, her ponytail bouncing a bit. She kept on walking past them. Deanna went about pulling her thick blonde hair into a ponytail while speaking to Hank.

"Sam and I are sisters. We're looking for our mother. She might be here, we have no idea. I just kinda figured, ya know. You and me… we're… in the same boat." Deanna let her hands fall to her sides and stared up at Hank.

"Why didn't you just tell me that from the start?"

"Well, I'm telling you now." Deanna bit her lip and furrowed her brow then said, "And honestly, that's the most honest I've ever been with a guy. Like, ever."

Hank looked down at Deanna, seeming a little worried.

"So, we okay?" Deanna asked after a second. Hank just nodded. "And what do you mean I didn't pack provisions?"

Deanna pulled a bag of peanut M&Ms from her pocket and popped a few in her mouth. She raised her eyebrows at Hank, then turned around and followed the others. Hank gave a small chuckle and followed close behind.

About a half hour later, Roy stopped in a small clearing. "Here it is. Black Water Ridge."

"What coordinates are we at?" Sam asked, stopping a few feet ahead of Roy. The guide pulled a GPS locator from his vest and checked the coordinates.

"Thirty-five minutes one eleven." Deanna walked up to Sam's side, looking around at the forest and underbrush surrounding them.

"You hear that, Sammy?" Deanna asked. Sam regarded the odd silence for a moment, then sighed.

"Yeah. Not even crickets." Deanna nodded and bit the inside of her cheek, thinking.

"Alright, I'm gonna go take a look around," Roy said. Sam whirled around.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Roy," she warned.

"Thanks for worrying sweetheart, but I'll be fine." Roy winked at Sam and set off through the woods. Ben wandered around a bit, looking around them.

"Listen, we all stay together, okay?" Deanna said. Hank and Ben nodded, and Deanna and Sam led them after Roy.

They'd only gone a little way when Roy shouted Hank's name. "You better get over here!"

Hank took off running towards the sound of Roy's voice, not even considering the fact that there may be bear traps or a hole he could twist his ankle in. Sam, Deanna, and Ben followed Hank through the trees until he stopped in his tracks upon reaching a clearing.

"Oh my God," he breathed, looking around. Two tents were on the ground, their sides ripped to shreds. Blood splattered one of them, and supplies were scattered around.

"Looks like a grizzly," Roy said, examining one of the slashed up tents. The group made their way through the wreckage and looked around at the supplies and sleeping bags strewn everywhere. Hank unclipped his day pack from his chest and dropped it to the ground.

"Tommy!" he started yelling. Sam looked to Deanna, who looked like she was halfway panicking. Hank kept yelling his brother's name, and Sam finally stepped forward.

"Hey!" she yelled over him, running up to his side and grabbing his sleeve to pull him back. She looked out at the woods that stood in front of them and shushed him.

"Why should I be quiet? My brother is out there!" he practically screamed in protest. He jerked away from Sam, but she kept her gaze on the dense trees.

"There still might be something out there," she answered. Hank stared at her incredulously.

"Sam!" they heard Deanna's voice from farther over in the campsite. Sam left Hank staring at her and headed for Deanna's voice. Behind a rather large tree and a bit of underbrush, Deanna had made sure they were hidden from the others. She crouched on the ground next to lines dug into the topsoil. Sam crouched next to her.

"The bodies were dragged from the campsite," Deanna said and turned to look at Sam. "But, that's not all. Here, the tracks just vanished. It's weird."

Sam gave the drag lines another look and saw where they suddenly just… stopped. Deanna stood up and looked in the direction the tracks should have continued in, then down to the tracks again. Sam stood up next to her and, rather annoyed with them, adjusted the bandages on her palms.

"I'll tell you one thing, Sammy. It's no skinwalker or black dog." Deanna left Sam standing there with the tracks. She gave them one more questioning look and followed her sister.

When they returned to the others, Hank was standing at the edge of the clearing, holding a cell phone that had the top ripped off and the screen bloodied. Deanna went to stand next to him.

"He could still be alive," she offered. Hank turned to face her, opening his mouth to say something. He never got the chance.

A scream erupted from the woods to their left, and Roy, Deanna, and Sam leapt into action. Deanna pulled her .45 from the waistband of her jeans, and Roy pulled the safety on his rifle. Sam, even with no weapon, raced after the two with every intention of wounding something. Ben and Hank followed just as quickly.

The terrain was rough, and the hillside was steep, but the five of them ran on as the screams continued. When the last cry for help died out, they stopped, Sam and Roy ahead in a clearing, Deanna back with Hank and Ben, who quickly caught up and jumped up on a fallen log.

"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Hank asked from where he stood next to a tree. Sam looked around, and then, with the sudden realization of what they were dealing with, started walking backwards.

As she turned, she said calmly, "Everyone back to camp."

Back at the campsite, their packs and most of the supplies Tommy's group brought was gone.

"Our packs!" Ben said as he came in last. "They're gone!"

Roy stepped forward and crouched on the ground, his rifle laid over one knee. "My GPS and satellite phone are gone, too."

"It's smart," Sam said, clenching her jaw and letting air hiss out between her teeth in annoyance. "It wants to cut us off. So we can't call for help."

"You mean someone, some… nut job out there just stole all our gear?" Roy asked, trying to look for tracks. Sam didn't answer him and headed straight for Deanna.

"I need to speak with you, Deanna. In private." Deanna shrugged and went with her sister a few yard away from the others.

"What?" Deanna asked when Sam finally stopped.

"First, put the pistol away." Deanna sighed, but returned her .45 to her waistband. "Now, let me see Mom's journal."

Deanna pulled it out of her jacket and handed it to Sam. She looked around in boredom as Sam flipped through the pages of the journal.

"Here," Sam said, handing the journal back to Deanna. "Check it."

"Wendigo? Are you serious? They're in the Minnesota backwoods, or northern Michigan, I've never even heard of one this far west." Deanna handed the journal back to Sam, who flipped it closed.

"Think about it, Deanna. The claws. The way it can mimic a human voice."

"Great. Then my pistol if freaking useless." Sam walked past Deanna, shoving the journal into her chest. Deanna took it and just stared straight ahead when Sam came back and whispered, "We have to get these people to safety."

"All right, time to go," Sam said, walking back into camp. Hank stared at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "Things have gotten.. complicated."

"What?" Hank asked.

"Don't worry about it, kid. Whatever's out there, I'm pretty sure I can handle it," Roy said.

"It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now."

"One, you're talking nonsense." Roy halfway exploded. "Two, you're in no position to be giving anybody orders!"

"Relax!" Deanna chimed in.

"We never should have let you come out here to begin with, okay?" Sam said. "I'm trying to protect you people!"

"You? Protect me?" Roy was growing evermore irritated. "I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you goodnight!"

"Yeah, Roy? It's a damn near perfect hunter." Roy looked away and snorted. "It's smarter than you. And it's going to hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here."

Sam smiled slightly the entire time she spoke. Roy laughed in her face. "You know you're crazy right?"

"You ever hunt a Wen—" Deanna cut Sam off, grabbing her jacket and getting in between her and Roy.

"Hey, chill out!"

"Roy, dammit!" Hank yelled. He stepped forward next to Roy, pushing him back a bit. "Stop it. Everybody just stop!"

The campsite went silent.

"Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not going to leave here without him." Deanna pursed her lips and though for a moment. She glanced skyward, looking at the position of the sun.

"It's getting late. This thing is a great hunter during the day. But it's unbelievable at night. There is no way we're gonna beat it in the dark. We need to set up a way to protect ourselves."

"How?" was all Hank asked.

Darkness had fallen, and Ben was half asleep next to the small fire they'd set up. In the faint light, Deanna scratched designs into the ground with a stick. Hank knelt next to the fire, poking at it with a small branch.

"So what are those again?" Hank asked as Deanna moved across the campsite to scratch another design in the dirt.

"Anasazi symbols. They're for protection," she explained. "The Wendigo can't cross over them."

Roy circled around Hank and Ben, laughing.

"Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy," Deanna said, standing up. She dropped the stick in the fire and headed over to where Sam sat on a rock. "Do I wanna know what's going on inside that freaking head of yours?"

"Deanna…" Sam started.

"No, you're not fine," Deanna cut her off. "You're like a powder keg man, this isn't like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?"

Sam's face was blank, and if there was even a sliver of emotion, it was one of disappointment and pain. She stared at the ground tiredly.

"Mom's not here," she finally said. "I mean, that much we know for sure right? She would have left us a message, a sign, right?"

Deanna just nodded. "Yeah, I think you're right. To tell you the truth I don't think Dad's ever been in Lost Creek."

"Then let's get these people back to town, and hit the road. Go find Mom!" Sam was growing irritated. "I mean, why are we still even here?"

Deanna reached into her jacket and pulled out the journal. She stood up and moved to sit on the rock across from Sam. She held it out to Sam, her hand on the front cover.

"This is why. This book. Mom's single, most valuable possession, everything she knows about every evil thing is in here. Now she's left it to us." Sam didn't look at her sister, though she could feel Deanna's eyes on her. "I think she wants us to pick up where she left off. Saving people, hunting things! The family business!"

Sam finally looked at Deanna, muscles tense and eyes wide. She attempted to calm herself down, running her hands over her face. "That makes no sense. Why doesn't she just… you know, call us. Tell us what she wants, tell us where she is."

"I don't know. But the way I see it, Mom's given us a job to do, and I intend to do it." Sam's expression suddenly became one of pain and loss. Deanna knew what was coming next.

"Deanna, no. I gotta find Mom," Sam said, tears coming to her eyes. "I gotta find Jesse's killer. It's the only thing I can think about."

"And we'll find him I promise. But listen to me. You gotta prepare yourself. It's gonna take a while. And all that anger? You can't keep it burning over the long haul, it's going to kill you. You gotta have patience man." Sam shook her head and looked down at her bandaged hands. She gave a small laugh.

"How do you do it?" she asked. "How does Mom do it?"

Deanna looked over at Ben and Hank, who were still sitting by the fire, talking.

"Well, for one, them," she said, nodding to them. Sam looked over just as Hank pulled Ben into a hug. "We come from a family so screwed to Hell… maybe we can help some others. Makes it a little bit more bearable."

The sisters watched Hank and Ben for a minute longer before looking back to each other.

"I'll tell you what else helps," Deanna said. "Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I can."

The cries of help started up again, and the Winchester sisters jumped up, Deanna pulling out her pistol and Sam sweeping the flashlight beam around the camp perimeter.

"It's trying to draw us out," Deanna said. "Just stay cool, stay put."

Of course, Roy had to throw his two cents in. "Inside the magic circle?" Deanna merely glared at him. The screams were cut off by a growl, then a scream of pain and then… silence. "Okay, that's no grizzly," Roy said, pointing his rifle at where the screams had been coming from.

Ben grabbed Hank's hand and pulled him back so Ben could sit on a rock at the edge of the clearing.

"It's okay, you'll be all right. I promise," Hank said, kneeling next to Ben. Leaves rustled around camp. Something was moving through the woods around them, and quickly. Roy reacted on instinct, aiming in a millisecond and pulling the trigger. He pulled the bolt back and shoved it forward and down again, putting another bullet in the chamber.

Deanna went to grab him, but he let loose two more bullets in quick succession. The creature squealed in pain and went running away.

"I hit it!" Roy yelled triumphantly. He took off into the underbrush to follow it.

"Roy! Roy no!" Deanna and Sam yelled after him, trying to get him to stop. Deanna finally started after him, yelling back at the others not to move. Sam followed close behind.

Hank grabbed the end of a burning stick, holding it up like a torch to ward off the creature if it came back.

The screams suddenly stopped, as did Deanna and Sam, freezing in their tracks. Roy was nowhere to be seen or heard. The eerie silence unnerved Sam and Deanna. Roy was more than likely gone.

Sam sat against a stump in the morning, staring at nothing in particular and messing with beads that stuck out from their Mom's journal. She needed something, anything, to distract her from the fact that they had let Roy get taken. Deanna wandered around the campsite, looking at the claw marks on the trees and picking at the bark every once in a while. Hank knelt on the ground and Ben sat next to where the fire used to be.

"I don't…" Hank started, "I mean… these types of things aren't supposed to be real."

"Well," Deanna said, "I wish I could tell you different."

Deanna went to crouch next to Hank.

"How do we know it's not out there, watching us?"

"We don't," Deanna said honestly. "But we're safe here."

"How do you even know about this stuff?" Hank asked. Deanna thought about her response for a moment.

"Well… Kind of runs in the family." She smiled sadly and stood up just as Sam walked back into the campsite.

"Hey," she said, stopping between Hank and Ben. Deanna stopped next to one of the ripped up tents, watching her little sister situate herself and Ben and Hank stand. "We have a better chance in the daylight. And I, for one, want to kill this evil son of a bitch."

Deanna smiled proudly at Sam and leaned against a tree. "Well, hell, you know I'm in."

Sam gave a small laugh at her sister's response and held up the journal. Hank glanced around, then went to her side as she flipped through it to the page about the Wendigo. Pushing away from the tree, Deanna went to the duffle bag that sat next to the fire pit as Sam spoke.

"Wendigo is a Cree Indian word," Sam explained, tapping the drawing of the Wendigo. "It roughly translates into 'evil that devours.'"

"They're hundreds of years old," Deanna chimed in, digging through the duffle bag and pulling out multiple seemingly random items. "Sometimes an Indian, other times a uh… frontiersman, or a miner or a hunter."

"How the hell does a man turn into one of those things?" Hank asked, watching Deanna. The older Winchester stood, carrying a can of something.

"Story's always the same," Deanna answered. "Some guy finds himself in the wilderness, starving and cut off from supplies or help, and becomes a cannibal to survive. Eats other members of his… tribe or camp."

"Like the Donner Party…" Ben said quietly. Deanna looked at the kid like she didn't expect him to make the connection. After a second, though, she nodded approvingly and moved away to mess with the cans she carried.

"Cultures all over the world think eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities," Sam continued explaining. "Speed, strength, immortality."

Deanna walked back over, a bottle and a rag in her hand. "Keep eating enough of it, over the years you become this… less than human thing. And you're always hungry."

"If that's true," Hank inquired, "how can Tommy still be alive?"

"You're not gonna like it," Deanna admitted. Hank tilted his head and glared at her. "If it knows anything, a Wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It can hibernate for years at a time. When it's awake, it keeps its victims alive. I guess you could say it stores them. So it can feed… whenever it wants."

Hank looked over at Ben, who screwed his lips up to the side and cast his gaze to the ground.

"If Tommy's still alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, cold, and safe. And we have to track it back there."

"Then how do we stop it?"

"Well, guns are useless. As are knives." Deanna walked around them a picked up the can again, and Hank realized she was holding a small can of gasoline. "Basically, we gotta torch the sucker."

With Deanna in the lead, the four headed away from camp. Deanna held a Molotov cocktail in her hand. The trees they passed had bloody claw marks embedded in them. The group picked their way through the forest, not quite sure what direction they were even headed in.

After a while, when the sunlight was beginning to fade due to the tall canopy, Sam went ahead of the group, then stopped looking up at a tree. She called Deanna's name and the other Winchester came running.

"What is it, Sammy?" Deanna asked, following Sam's gaze to the claw marks in the bark of the trees. Scanning about three feet above their heads, Deanna noticed that every single tree had claw marks in it at that level. Sam pulled Deanna to the side, letting Ben and Hank go ahead a little bit. She pressed herself to Deanna's side and started whispering frantically in her ear.

"You know, I was thinking, those claw prints… so clear and distinct. Almost too easy to follow…" Deanna stared down at her panicked sister until a hiss and a rustle of leaves sounded near them. She whirled around, hand going to her pistol though she knew it would do no good. It hissed again to their right, and Sam whirled around in a panic.

It kept happening, circling them, and they all backed up until Hank was practically pressed against a tree. He pushed Ben away upon hearing a creaking behind him. He looked behind him, expecting the monster, but when he looked up, something came falling at him. With a shout, he jumped out of the way as a body came down to drop on the forest floor. Roy's body.

"You got it?" Sam asked as Deanna ran to the body and checked Roy's neck. Ben pulled his brother up and stood there for a second.

"Neck's been snapped," Deanna reported. Another hiss came from the undergrowth. "Run! Run run run, go!"

They took off through the forest, jumping over fallen logs and dense underbrush. Deanna took the lead again, Hank close behind. Ben was in the rear just behind Sam when he tripped and landed headfirst on the ground, dirt flying into his mouth and scraping up his hands. Sam stopped herself on a tree and ran back to help Ben up.

"Get up! Get up!" she yelled frantically, pulling at his jacket and trying to help him get his feet underneath him. She glanced back just a for a second and saw the leaves rustling. She took off, still grabbing at Ben's jacket. They'd only been running a few seconds more when they heard a scream. Whether it was Hank or Deanna, they didn't know. With Deanna's voice the way it was, she could have pulled off any kind of scream.

"Hank!" Ben yelled, running over a rise and down into the small bowl in the middle of the forest. He stopped and looked around for his older brother, and Sam frantically looked around on the ground for any indication of where they went. She bent down, and when she came back up, she held the broken neck of a bottle, with a rag stuffed through it.

Deanna and Hank were nowhere to be found.

The two kept walking, completely alone now and without the guidance of Deanna, who Sam figured to be a much more experienced hunter. She'd been at it the longest anyway.

"So, if this thing keeps its victims alive, how come it killed Roy?" Ben asked after a few minutes.

"Honestly? Probably because Roy shot at it," Sam answered, scanning the trees around them. "He pissed it off."

Sam stopped, looking around for any signs of them. Ben went off on his own for a moment, then yelled at Sam.

"They went this way!" He stood up when Sam came over, handing her a peanut M&M he'd found on the ground. Sam took it and smiled.

"Better than breadcrumbs," she said as she tossed it away and started following the trail of brightly colored candies.

The M&M trail led them to what seemed to be an abandoned mine shaft. There were a couple of old rotted wooden buildings, covered in moss and slow creeping vines. One of them had a door that hung open, mostly rotted off its hinges. A sign to the side read "Warning! Danger Do Not Enter Extremely Toxic Materials."

Sam looked at the sign, looked back at Ben, shrugged, smiled, and went inside. Once in the shaft, Sam pulled out a flashlight, shining the beam down the long mine shaft. Sam flicked the flashlight off after a moment, then pulled Ben into a hollow in the rock as the Wendigo walked across in front of them.

Ben practically hung on Sam as they waited to make sure it didn't see them. She went to return to the main shaft, until the creature appeared and headed down a smaller shaft across from them. Ben went to say something, but Sam whirled around and clapped her hand over his mouth, keeping him from saying a word. After a few seconds, she released him and returned to their trek through the mine shaft.

Something creaked below them, and Ben stopped to see what it was, glancing over the ground. A second later the wood underneath them had snapped and they were sent tumbling down, landing in sand at the bottom of… something.

Ben looked up and into the face of a human skull. He jerked back, practically into Sam's lap, his body shaking and his eyes wide.

"It's okay, Ben," Sam assured him. "It's okay."

They both looked up, and there were Deanna and Hank, hanging by their wrists from the ceiling. Their faces were dirty, and their eyes were closed. They looked like they'd been out here for weeks, though it had been mere hours.

"Deanna!" Sam said, rushing to her sister. "Deanna! Hey, wake up!"

Ben stood up slowly and ran to Hank. "Hank! Wake up!"

Deanna's eyes came open slowly, and she groaned in pain. Sam smiled slightly.

"Hey, Deanna, you okay?"

"I'm super, now would you get me down from here?" Sam smirked and reached up to grab Deanna's wrists, holding them while she flipped open her knife and cut the crude rope. She reached over to Hank and cut the roped from his wrists as well, leaving Ben to tend to him.

Sam took Deanna's weight on herself and took her over to sit against the wall.

"You sure you're okay?" she asked, looking Deanna over.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Deanna answered though she halfway writhed in pain. "Where is it?"

"It's gone for now." Hank stood up suddenly, Ben at his side. Sam and Deanna looked up to see what they were going to. Then it dawned on them. The other body hanging in the cave. Tommy. Hank and Ben approached their brother's hanging body, tears glistening in Hank's eyes.

"Tommy…" he said softly, touching his brother's chest. Tommy's eyes jerked open, he sucked in a breath and brought his head up, making himself swing backwards. Hank stumbled back in surprise. "Get him down!"

Sam reached up and cut the rope from Tommy's hands. The man fell to the floor, mostly supported by his brothers. He smiled and let his eyes close, knowing he was safe. They looked him over for any wounds or anything, and, finding none that were life-threatening, let him stand.

Deanna stood up next to their stolen packs and held up two odd looking pistols.

"Oi! Check it!" Deanna yelled to the others. Sam looked up from the floor.

"Flare guns," she said with a chuckle. "Those will work." Deanna gave a confident nod.

Back in the mine shaft, Hank and Ben supported their brother, leaving Sam and Deanna available to hold flare guns and check corners before they turned them. A growl echoed through the tunnels, and Sam held up the flare gun in front of her, wary of what might happened. Deanna just stopped and looked around her.

"Looks like someone's home for supper," Deanna said, not caring that it more than likely heard her. In fact, she wanted it to. This thing needed to die.

"We'll never outrun it," Hank said, shifting Tommy's weight on his shoulder.

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" Deanna asked Sam.

"Probably," Sam replied flatly.

"All right, listen to me," Deanna said, regarding the three brothers standing behind her. "You stay here with Sam, she's gonna get you out of here?"

"What are you going to do?" Hank asked, his voice betraying his worry.

Deanna didn't answer, just started walking.

"It's chow time you freaky bastard!" she screamed, making her way down the tunnel. "Yeah, bring it on baby! I taste good!"

Her voice faded out, but they could still hear her muffled yelling. Sam headed down a side tunnel, checked around the corner, then waved Hank, Ben, and Tommy on to follow her.

"Come on, hurry!"

They headed through the tunnels, the Wendigo's growling echoing all around them. They reached the main tunnel, and Sam checked both ways for the creature before waving the three brothers on.

"Go. Now!" Sam said, pointing to their left.

"No, Sam!" Hank refused.

"I have to. Go!" Hank clenched his jaw and shook his head, but turned with Tommy and headed for the exit. Sam positioned herself in the side tunnel, against the wall.

"Come on… come on…" she whispered to herself. After a second, there was a footstep to her right. She turned slowly, and choked back a scream as she looked straight at the Wendigo, which unleashed a blood curdling scream at her. She backed up and fired, missing the Wendigo by inches. She fell backwards onto the ground, and scrambled to her feet, running down the tunnel to catch up with Hank, Ben, and Tommy.

"Go, go! Hurry!" Sam said, rushing them along the tunnel. When she glanced back, the creature was coming down the tunnel after them, and it was pissed.

Tommy was groaning in pain and Ben was so scared he'd probably wet his pants, and Sam had managed to lead them into a dead end. They all turned around to face the monster, spend their last moments with dignity. Sam stood in front of the other three, trying to do at least one good thing with her last few breaths.

The creature rounded the corner, and Sam wanted to cower in fear, as much as she knew she couldn't. It stood a few yards from them, stretched out its hands and let out a screech.

"HEY!" Deanna yelled from behind it, flare gun aimed at its chest. The creature turned, and Deanna's finger tightened on the trigger, unleashing a bright ball of flame into it. Another screech split the air, and flames licked up the sides of the Wendigo, engulfing its chest and going up into its head. Sam watched, thinking it a beautiful, yet horrid sight. Deanna just watched it turn to ashes with a blank look on her face. She looked up and smirked.

"Not bad, huh?" she said. Sam rolled her eyes as Deanna gave Hank a confident smile.

Back in town, still covered in dirt and feeling like death on legs, Sam and Ben talked to the police, an ambulance came for Tommy, and Hank and Deanna wandered around, not sure what to do. Both had bandages, Hank one on his forehead, and Deanna a couple on her face and a large on one her neck.

"You know, I can't thank you enough for helping me get my brother back." Deanna raised an eyebrow flirtatiously. Hank scoffed. "Must you cheapen the moment?"

An EMT came up and tapped Hank on the shoulder. "You riding with your brother?" she asked. Hank just nodded and the woman left. Ben and Sam came up to where they now stood next to the Impala.

"You ready?" Hank asked Ben. His little brother just nodded. Hank turned back to Deanna and smiled slightly, then leaned forward and put his lips to her forehead. "I hope you find your mother," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers for just a moment before pulling away and leaving with a smile. Hank nodded his thanks to Sam, and went to the ambulance to ride with his brother.

Sam sat next to Deanna on the hood of the Impala and watched Hank, Ben, and Tommy leave. They were silent for a few moments as the ambulance pulled away.

"Man, I hate camping," Deanna said out of the blue, breaking the half silence.

"Me too," Sam said quietly.

"Sam, you know we're gonna find Mom, right?" Deanna asked, still not looking at her little sister.

"Yeah, I know." Sam smirked and looked at Deanna. "But in the meantime.. I'm driving." She kept her gaze on Deanna until the older Winchester tossed the key to the car in the air, letting Sam catch it.

Sam caught the keys triumphantly and pushed away from the hood, heading to the driver's side for the first time in a long time. Deanna made the walk of shame to the passenger side and climbed in reluctantly and without a word to her sister.


End file.
